In the End
by DesertDweller
Summary: Love is so easily shattered, especially when not given in honesty. Love is also sought after, but what happens to some one who is heartbroken when love begins to hunt them? The hunter becomes the hunted. Shounen Ai Warning...


In the End  
  
  
  
By Desertdweller.  
  
  
  
1.1 Author's note:: Sigh… I got writer's block as I tried to type up the next chapter of "Betrayal." Before you shish kabob me with bamboo poles. I have a valid reason… The idea I had been toying with turned out sucky. So I am experimenting with new ideas. I will not quit on the stories… I just felt the urge to write this one. It is different from my usual style but I do hope you enjoy it… Let me know… Ok? I really do like reviews and emails… Especially emails.  
  
Ja ne for now,  
  
D.D.  
  
  
  
Chapter one:: The prey.  
  
The wind keened softly past the walking shadow. His head was drooped and his countenance steely. He seemed far removed from the world and a forlorn look graced his exterior. The eyes were melancholy and pain-filled. The slender shoulders seemed to hold the weight of the entire world on them. Stray sunbeams glanced off the vivid hues of the man's skin. An ebony overcoat fluttered spiritedly in the stiff breeze. A sable turtleneck with gold embroidery graced his upper torso and a pair of black jeans and black dress shoes completed the picture of the depression. Dead leaves skittered across the dry pavement, heralding his arrival. He could feel various eyes stare deeply at him. But, then… he did stick out slightly. A stray arrow of light struck the small gold hoop he wore in his right ear. Though the day was sunny and cheerful, he was not.  
  
But then, he was rarely ever was.  
  
  
  
2 Memories seemed to swamp over him… His mind cluttered with remembered pain, like miniscule spiders that had ensnared a hapless insect in their delicate web and now drained the life out of it.  
  
He shook his head, trying to clear it…  
  
He could remember the sights, smells and sounds so clearly.  
  
Walking in with a bouquet of flowers for his beloved.  
  
Hearing strange noises from the room upstairs.  
  
The smell of jasmine, his favourite flower.  
  
The coolness of the door handle.  
  
The soft light that reflected off of his beloved's sable hair…  
  
The lurid gleam off the hair of the other individual in the bed.  
  
Standing in disbelief, denial and then finally acceptance. The shatter of his world.  
  
The apologies.  
  
The door slamming…  
  
His heart breaking…  
  
He felt a warm wetness run down his cheek. He angrily swiped away the offending tear. The wind picked up on the pace with a decided chill in the normally balmy air. He shrugged his shoulders and hunched them forward, trying to warm himself.  
  
Trying to get the chill out of his heart.  
  
He thought he had found the one person in the world that gave a damn about him…  
  
He was wrong.  
  
No one cared about him. No one. He was alone, drifting along on the cold highway of life. A dead leaf whispering along a lonely street in ghost town.  
  
He craned his neck skyward, searching for the stars in the waning afternoon light. With his exceedingly sharp eyes, he could pick out the faint prickle of light in the urn overhead.  
  
He huffed. His own raced cared nothing about him. Why should he go there? He leaned back earthward. Though the events had happened a scant year ago, they still burned hot in his heart, like hellfire on a damned soul.  
  
He continued his leisurely pace along the pavement. He had no reason to hurry. Why try to hurry along death? It came soon enough.  
  
'But,' he mused,'Not soon enough… This must be hell, for I burn everyday for the one thing I cannot have nor will ever have again.'  
  
He sighed and continued on his way. Not knowing of the wary eyes that followed his lean form towards the horizon.  
  
The last of his black overcoat fluttered in the breeze as he rounded the corner.  
  
Piercing orbs followed him out of sight. The figure hidden in the shadows slowly separated itself from its parent's darkness. Sable locks whispered silently as the head turned to follow the retreating figure.  
  
A sigh escaped from between the thin lips and the muscular chest heaved up and down. He did this every day. And everyday, he sat and watched the weary wanderer.  
  
The young man strolled to the park bench that sat a few feet away from him. He reached for his wallet and pulled it out of his faded denim jeans' back pocket. Ruffling through the many papers that were crammed into it, he pulled out a single portrait.  
  
The image was old and tattered. Parts of the colors on the photo had faded, but you could still clearly see two individuals. The little picture had once been part of a major photograph, but had been cut out to include only two individuals. His best friend and himself…  
  
He smiled.  
  
A man and a small child grinned up at him. Well, the child was grinning his head off; a barely perceptible smile graced the older man's lean features as he stared down at the youngling in front of him.  
  
A small half smile graced the face of the reminiscing figure. He suddenly sat up and took out his wallet. He replaced the picture carefully as not to damage it. As he gazed back at the place where the other walker had rounded the corner, a phrase slipped from between his lips.  
  
"Soon. Piccolo-san. Soon."  
  
  
  
2.1.1 Meanwhile…  
  
The rotund metal doorknob turned slowly as external pressure rolled it one way then the other; a series of clicking noises was heard as the occupant of the dark room slowly slid inside. The tall figure bent his neck slowly to allow his tall frame to pass through the shorter portal.  
  
The room was dark and full of writhing shadows, as he moved about, alternately shifting the panels of light and shadow that entered his dwelling. The apartment was small, neat and well kept. The walls were slightly bare; a bamboo wall scroll depicting a waterfall was the only decoration that graced them. Furniture was kept to a bare minimal. A plush couch, coffee table, radio and small TV were situated in the living room. There was one full bath, one bedroom and a half-bath. It was small, but enough for two people.  
  
'Don't go there,' his mind warned him, ' you will only cause yourself more pain.'  
  
He sighed as he stood in the middle of his compact living room.  
  
A lone picture in a frame was placed almost reverently on the coffee table. The two subjects of the photo gazed happily out at him, as if mocking his anger and sorrow.  
  
He felt a growl rise out of the depths of his chest as he glared at the offending portrait. With a violent sweep of his hand, he knocked the innocent picture off of the table. It flew across the living room and impacted on the opposite wall.  
  
A mute tinkling was heard as the glass shattered on impact, sending jagged little glass raindrops everywhere. The shards flew in all directions cutting into anything in their path.  
  
The eyes that had held so much anger and hatred suddenly grew liquid and vulnerable. Jade lids lowered to cover them and the tall frame quaked once and collapsed like a dying swan onto the yielding cushions beneath him, the overcoat fluttering like a pair of broken wings as he fell.  
  
Silver streams founted from his closed garnet pools. And he burrowed his head into the supple cushions of the sofa and sobbed, lamenting what he had lost.  
  
  
  
  
  
The watcher continued to gaze at the ground for a longer while. He appeared to be deep in thought to the passers-by that frequented the park.  
  
Finally, with a strange smile on his handsome face, he raised his lithe and wiry body off the bench and strolled down the path, his steps slow and predatory.  
  
Dark and sultry eyes took in the surroundings, seeing everything and nothing, for he still was deep into contemplation. The smile grew wider.  
  
Like any successful predator, he intended to catch his prey the minute he let his guard down. Yes, he intended to devour his victim, but not literally.  
  
He frowned suddenly. He did not wish to catch his quarry on the rebound, but instead on his terms. He intended to seduce, not cause pain. The smile returned as singular fantasies flitted to and fro throughout his consciousness. Each one more appetizing than the last.  
  
He neared his own dwelling and stood on the cool stone steps, hand on the doorknob, head down, thinking. He knew what had to be done and when, but how to initiate the whole thing was lost to him.  
  
Suddenly inspiration hit him. He knew exactly what to do. The smirk returned to his face and he entered the portal. His jeans whispered as he walked into his apartment. The gloom was warm and comforting. He bee-lined straight for the phone.  
  
Dialing the numbers quickly, he waited for the phone to picked up on the other end.  
  
Finally after three rings it did.  
  
  
  
Talking quickly and softly he outlined his plan to the listener on the other end.  
  
As soon as he had done that, he politely got off the phone and settled down onto the couch.  
  
The hungry light returned to his smouldering gaze.  
  
The bait was set, the trap ready. Now all that was left was to lure the in the prey. He smiled with a wolfish grin and then entered the bathroom.  
  
He took a quick shower and then dressed for bed. He brushed his teeth and then rinsed. As he climbed into the empty queen-sized bed, he smiled, thinking of the events he had just set in motion. He closed his tired eyes and hid their hungry light from the world, sailing off into the realm of dreams and fantasy.  
  
All the while the smile remained fixed on his young handsome face.  
  
  
  
  
  
A golden cascade began to flood over the land. The native inhabitants of the forest began to bestir  
  
themselves out of slumber. The morning inhaled and exhaled with dewy floral scents, wafting around in the  
  
fickle currents.  
  
Like a stealthy ninja, the sunlight silently crept into the shadows, banishing them. It crept into  
  
windows and around various nooks and crannies. Finally, it began to creep over edge of a plush couch,  
  
deftly illuminating a being, reclining on it. The saffron hue turned the dark skin of the man into a glowing phantom. Black talons glinted in the early morning light. The clothes, rumpled from being held in  
  
one position for the whole night, whispered as the figure began to rouse itself.  
  
Long, sinewy arms stretched out above his head. Long, lean and toned legs stretched and the toes pointed, to  
  
lengthen the muscle and get the kinks out. Finally the back arched and the neck curved back, popping various  
  
bones back into alignment.  
  
Emerald lids slid back to reveal slightly dazed garnets.  
  
A pair of thin, curving lips retreated, baring vulpine teeth in a yawn.  
  
Finally, with fluid feline grace the figure slid off the couch and stood upright, waking up.  
  
Piccolo stood in the middle of his living room, surveying the mess. He sighed. It was only on the  
  
anniversary of the day when his beloved left him, did he get this down. Normally he tried to ignore it or  
  
push it down into the depths of his heart to forget it. But, like a persistent weed, it continues to grow  
  
and cause cracks in his heart.  
  
Shaking his head, he glided to the kitchen to pick up the broom and dustpan. He deftly ridded the floor of  
  
the slivers of glass.  
  
Then he returned the tools to their proper place after disposing of the glass.  
  
He surveyed himself and walked to the bathroom to take a shower.  
  
He turned on the hot water tap, getting the water warm enough. Stripping efficiently and quickly, he dove into  
  
the shower stall, trying to escape the chill morning air, for the heater had not clicked on yet.  
  
He sighed in pleasure, as the warm water caressed his skin. He lathered up the bath sponge and leisurely  
  
soaped himself up. Piccolo was an extremely clean person; he preferred neatness over chaos.  
  
He was beginning to rinse himself off, when his doorbell rang.  
  
Cussing, he turned off the hot water, quickly drying his lower torso off and putting on a pair of worn  
  
denim jeans that emphasized the curve of his hips and toned legs.  
  
"What in the seven circles of hell, would anyone be doing out this time in the morning?" he growled.  
  
He flew to the door, intending on giving the offending party a piece of his mind.  
  
He yanked open the door and...  
  
There was no one there.  
  
The morning sun reflected off the remaining water droplets on his back, arms and face, causing his skin  
  
to appear to be studded with millions of minute diamonds.  
  
He swiveled his head back and forth in confusion.  
  
Suddenly on a whim, he looked down.  
  
A bouquet of a dozen crimson roses with baby's breath and carnations sat innocently on the cold doorstep.  
  
He quirked his head to the side and picked up the vase.  
  
A rose petal drifted out of the tangle. A slender green hand caught it, the color contrasting beautifully  
  
against each other.  
  
He placed it back with its fellows and ruffled through the greenery. Finally he found his goal.  
  
The card was held erect by a plastic stand. There was no name on the envelope.  
  
//It is probably to some one else and the deliveryman got the wrong address. No one ever sends me  
  
anything. // he mused, confusion plain.  
  
Still, he was curious. So he opened the envelope and pulled out he cream colored card.  
  
Ebony writing claimed one side. He flipped it over and began to read.  
  
"To My emerald sylph. Your presence causes the sun to rise and the stars to shine in my soul. You are my  
  
only beloved.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
your admirer..."  
  
The script was typed calligraphy, and not unique.  
  
The fact that someone was watching him unnerved him somewhat. He scanned the surrounding environment. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Tucking the vase in the crook of one lean arm and re-reading the card to  
  
make sure he got it right, he re-entered the house, kicking the door shut.  
  
  
  
  
  
Meanwhile…  
  
The young man smiled as the bait was taken and now prepared to spring the trap. 


End file.
